


Mid-battle Shenanigans

by Boneless_Milkshake



Category: Splatoon
Genre: M/M, Oral Sex, PWP, Semi-public?, stranger danger
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-08
Updated: 2016-01-08
Packaged: 2018-05-12 12:20:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5665873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Boneless_Milkshake/pseuds/Boneless_Milkshake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Big stages are good for their often overlooked areas...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mid-battle Shenanigans

Wen likes big stages, but doesn't like having to support a ignorant team in them. After the holidays, there was a sudden influx of newbies joining the ranks, and while Wen loved to help them by giving tips and showing off, they did still have a lot to learn. However, he could've sworn that there's also another squid around his level, yet _all_ of his team went charging into the middle of the new stage, recklessly blasting, rolling and splatting (and also getting splatted). Wen sighs, taking his gold painted aerospray and inking all the cosy, forgotten areas of the new map, Piranha Pit.

Fortunately for him, the opposing orange team seemed to be just like the rest of his pink members, as after a narrow escape from an orange carbon roller, Wen finds that the opposite side of the map is just as bare as his own side was not long ago. He smirks. “If the other team won't ink their own turf, I guess _someone's_ gotta do it!”

He goes a bit trigger happy, spraying ink in every nook and cranny he found. While the middle and some of the sides are an ever changing mess, at least there's some semblance of pink at all.

Then, a faint line catches his attention.

He cries and drops into his ink just before he got shot by a sniper. Ah, if only he had any other weapon; the aerospray isn't made for combat, and doesn't even have a range to pretend that it is! He hops out of the way of another shot, the orange inkling holding the splat charger looking awful intimidating, even in that spotted shirt. Great, so someone on the opposing team may have actually _looked at the map_ and saw areas being rapidly covered. Wen would use a 'To me!' signal, though doesn't think there's much point, as he's currently staring a splat in the face.

The orange ink is thick under his feet, making it hard for him to move – there's no way he'll be able to dodge another shot! So he does what any scared squid would to in the situation; party.

The rapid change from squid to kid makes him dizzy, and although this tactic has never had him spared before, maybe it could work this time? Through his transforming, he sees his enemy lower the charger in his hand, quirking a brow. Alright, it actually looks like it's working! The orange charger approaches him, holding out a hand. “Stop that.”

Wen immediately obeys, clothes decorated in splotches of orange ink. In any other circumstance – preferably from afar – Wen would say that this inkling is sorta cute. The orange of his tentacles match his bright green eyes and pale skin, though thinks that with a different outfit he could look even cuter. Maybe with a chequered shirt that matched his headphones, and converses instead of loafers, or even-

Scrutinising of his opponents fashion ends abruptly when said opponent drops his sniping weapon and pushes Wen back against the nearby wall, under the escalating ramp. He whimpers when his open cap is flicked off his head, squeaking when the orange boy leans his head and _kisses him_?!

Wen tries to pull away by craning his head to the side, but his enemy is persistent, following his movements. He thinks that _now_ is the best time to send out a help signal, yet his wrists are quickly snatched up and pinned either side of his head, as if Mister Orange here knew what he was thinking.

Sure, kisses are harmless, but this a Turf _War,_ not a Turf _Peace_! Still, Wen can't think of anyway out of this peaceful situation, so relaxes slightly. It's his first kiss too, which Orange can probably tell – his ski jacket might as well have 'Inexperienced' stitched on the breast. The only other person to kiss him is his mother, but she only kisses his cheeks and nose and head and other motherly kissing places, and even if she did kiss his mouth, she wouldn't be rolling her tongue into his mouth-

Wen jolts, realising that Orange is rolling his tongue into his mouth! It prods his own before it retreats as far back as possible, eliciting a small chuckle from the obviously more experienced inkling. He instead just uses his tongue to lap at Wen's full bottom lip, giving it a quick nip too. Wen squeaks again, though just allows everything to happen. He allows their tongues to prod and poke each other, allows his bottom lip to be sucked on, allows a long, pleasing kiss to occur before his chin and jaw are sprinkled with quick pecks, and as Orange begins to unzip his olive jacket...

Wait, why is he doing that?! Wen's hand grip Orange's wrists, which doesn't stop him from unzipping the jacket completely, hands travelling up to Wen's shoulders to pull down the straps of his black vest, mouth occupied with lavishing attention to his neck and collarbones.

“W-wait...” Wen gasps, shivering at his skin being exposed to the air around them. He inhales sharply when thumbs run over his brown nipples, his breath hitching in his throat as they begin to harden. “Why... why are you doing this?”

Orange is of little words apparently, mischievous green eyes meeting with confused coal eyes. That look must've meant _something_ , except Wen couldn't decode it. Orange's mouth skips down his chest, lips capturing a perky nipple while a tongue interrogated it with flicks and drawn out strokes. Wen gasps, turning his head to the sky and hands relocating to Orange's shoulders, until he frees the nipple and travels further down...

Shorts are yanked down without warning, the pink inkling staring in humiliation as his cock sways in front of Orange's fanged mouth. A hand takes the organ, the other resting on a thigh, and Orange's toothy gates open to let out his slippery tongue, it lapping over the head in practised circles. Wen chokes on a cry, holding back moans as the hand holding him is set into action, pumping until the shaft grows to it's limit.

Wen isn't a particularly dirty minded or sexually curious squid, unlike many of his peers. He's watched adult videos before and even touched himself a few times – never to orgasm for fear of explaining messy bedsheets to parents – but other than that, he's as good as gold (maybe the thrill of sniping inklings during ranked battles says otherwise, but that's straying from the point). So he does know exactly what frisky Orange is up too, however, the sensations are all new to him. A wandering hand in the middle of the night can't compare to a slimy tongue drawing lines from base to tip on his erection, plus a finger rubbing his already leaking slit and a hand gently pulling and squeezing his balls.

At this point, his hands are raking against the wall his back is against, hips pushed forward and throat vibrating with moans that hurt to hold back any longer. It's no wonder so many look forward to this later in life, not even Wen can deny the sparks flaring in his loins and spreading throughout his whole body, making his breathing laboured and knees weak. And still, it only gets better when Orange takes the whole penis in his mouth.

A gurgled cry fills the air, Wen's head unable to keep still though he wants to watch Orange and his bobbing head, watch as his orange tongue would peak from between his lips at times or swipe over the tip. This technique has obviously been practised and perfected, because a pleasant burning ignites within depths of Wen's gut, and he feels like a firework, launched into the sky just before he's about to-

There's a burst of white behind his closed eyes, hips thrust forward involuntarily as he releases himself in Orange's mouth, the inkling sucking and swallowing happily. He pulls back, separating himself from the cock with a pop, gazing at the flaccid member with satisfaction. Wen pants, dazed as to everything around him until a horn goes off, signalling the end of the turf war. He yelps, quickly fixing his clothes and picking up his aerospray and cap, clutching both to his heaving chest, flustered face staring at Orange – who is calmly wiping ink from his own weapon. He smiles at Wen, before turning into a squid and super jumping back to his spawn point, leaving the shooter very confused and very embarrassed.

*

“Good work team!” cheers a pink inkling, the one who had a similar level to Wen. Somehow, Wen's team had won, and he himself wasn't even at the bottom of the leaderboard. It was probably due to the couple of inkstrikes he had used, yet the newbie placed at the bottom is still very proud of herself.

Wen quietly left the lobby, deciding that after what had transpired, he had participated in enough turf wars for that day. He's just fortunate that nobody from either team had walked on the two – he'd surely have died from embarrassment.

“Hey.” Wen turns around, before breaking out into a blush like a bad case of squidpox. It's Orange, headphones around his neck instead of perched on his head. “That was a good match we had. Hopefully we'll see us again?” Wen nods vigorously, Orange chuckling as he began to walk past. However, he stops, taking Wen's hand and leaning close to whisper, “Maybe then you can return the favour.”

A peck on the cheek, a wink and a wave, Orange walks out of sight into Booyah Base, leaving Wen standing frozen, yet burning so hot that he fears he might melt.

 

**Author's Note:**

> **This is my first time sharing smut on the interwebs, haha... It's rare that my writing is good nowadays, so I decided to share.  
>  Also, the 'To me!' signal would be 'C'mon!' for you Americans.**


End file.
